Chapter V (3)

Then Mobarec laid on the ground two large mats, on the edges whereof he scattered some precious stones, musk, and amber. Afterwards he sat down on one of the mats, and Zeyn on the other, and Mobarec said to the prince: “I shall now conjure the Sultan of the Genii, who lives in the palace that is before us. If our coming into this island is displeasing to him, he will appear in the shape of a dreadful monster; but if he approves of your design, he will show himself in the shape of a handsome man. As soon as he appears before us, you must rise and salute him, without going off your mat; for you would certainly perish should you stir from it. You must say to him, ‘Lord of the Genii, I wish your majesty may protect me, as you always protected my father; and I most humbly beg you to give me the ninth statue.’”

Mobarec, having thus instructed Prince Zeyn, began his conjuration. Immediately their eyes were dazzled by a long flash of lightning, which was followed by a clap of thunder. The whole island was covered with a thick darkness, a furious storm of wind blew, a dreadful cry was heard, the island felt a shock as if of an earthquake, and the Sultan of the Genii appeared in the shape of a very handsome man, yet there was something terrific in his air.

As soon as King Zeyn had prostrated himself and spoken as he had been taught by Mobarec, the Sultan of the Genii, smiling, answered: “My son, I loved your father, and every time he came to pay me his respects, I presented him with a statue, which he carried away with him. I have no less kindness for you. I obliged your father, some days before he died, to write that which you read on the piece of white satin. I promised him to receive you under my protection, and to give you the ninth statue, which in beauty surpasses those you have already. I had begun to perform my promise to him, for it was I whom you saw in a dream in the shape of an old man. I caused you to open the underground place where the urns and the statues are deposited. I know the motive that brought you hither. You shall obtain what you desire on certain conditions. You must return with Mobarec, and you must swear to come again to me, and to bring with you a young maiden who has reached her twentieth year, and who has never entertained a wish to be married. She must also be perfectly beautiful; and you so much a master of yourself as not to determine to keep her for your wife, as you are conducting her hither. I will give you a looking-glass, which will clearly reflect no other image than that of the young maiden you are in search of. Now swear to me to observe these conditions and keep your oath like a man of honor. Otherwise I will take away your life, notwithstanding the kindness I have for you.”

Zeyn Alasnam accepted the conditions and swore that he would faithfully keep his word. The Sultan of the Genii then delivered to him a looking-glass, saying: “My son, you may return when you please. There is the glass you are to use.”

Zeyn and Mobarec took leave of the Sultan of the Genii and went towards the lake. The boatman with the elephant’s head brought the boat and ferried them over the lake as he had done before. They joined their servants and returned with them to Cairo.

The young sultan rested a few days at Mobarec’s house and then said to him, “Let us go to Bagdad, to seek a maiden for the Sovereign of the Genii.”

“Why, are we not at Grand Cairo?” said Mobarec. “Shall we not there find beautiful maidens?”

“You are in the right,” answered the prince; “but how shall we learn where they are?”

“Do not trouble yourself about that,” answered Mobarec. “I know a very shrewd old woman, whom I will intrust with the affair, and she will acquit herself well.”

Accordingly, the old woman found means to show King Zeyn a considerable number of beautiful maidens of twenty years of age; but when he had viewed them, and came to consult his glass, it always appeared sullied. All the maidens in the court and city who were in their twentieth year underwent the trial one after another, but the glass never remained bright and clear.

When Zeyn and Mobarec saw there were no maidens to be found in Cairo who did not wish to be married, they went to Bagdad, where they hired a magnificent palace, and soon made acquaintance with the chief people of the city.

There lived at Bagdad at this time an imaum[2] of much repute and noted for his charity. His name was Boubekir Muezin. To him Mobarec went and offered a purse of five hundred gold pieces, in the name of Prince Zeyn, to distribute among the poor. On the next day, Boubekir Muezin waited on Prince Zeyn to return to him his thanks; and on hearing the purpose of his visit to Bagdad, told him of a young maiden, the daughter of a former vizier of the Sultan of Bagdad, whom he was assured would fulfil the terms required by Prince Zeyn, and offered to ask her from her father as the wife of the prince if he would go with him to her father’s mansion. The prince accompanied the imaum to the vizier’s; and the vizier, as soon as he was acquainted with the prince’s birth and design, called his daughter and made her take off her veil. Never had the young Sultan of Bussorah beheld such a perfect and striking beauty. He pulled out his glass, which remained bright and unsullied.

[Footnote 2: Imaum: The officer in Mohammedan mosques who recites the prayers and leads the devotions.]

When he perceived he had at length found such a person as he desired, he entreated the vizier to grant her to him. Immediately the cadi was sent for, the contract signed, and the marriage prayer said. After this ceremony, Zeyn conducted the vizier to his house, where he treated him magnificently and gave him considerable presents. Next day he sent a vast quantity of jewels by Mobarec, who conducted the bride home, where the wedding was celebrated with all the pomp that became Zeyn’s rank and dignity. When all the company was dismissed Mobarec said to his master: “Let us begone, sir, let us not stay any longer at Bagdad, but return to Cairo. Remember the promise you made the Sultan of the Genii.”

“Let us go,” answered the prince; “I must take care to do exactly as I agreed; yet I must confess, my dear Mobarec, that, if I obey the Sultan of the Genii, it is not without reluctance. The damsel I have married is so charming that I am tempted to carry her to Bussorah and place her on the throne.”

“Alas! sir,” answered Mobarec, “take heed how you give way to your inclination. Whatever it costs you, be as good as your word to the Sultan of the Genii.”

“Well, then, Mobarec,” said the prince, “do you take care to conceal the lovely maid from me. Let her never appear in my sight—perhaps I have already seen too much of her.”

Mobarec made all ready for their departure. They returned to Cairo and thence set out for the island of the Sultan of the Genii. When they arrived, the maid, who had performed the journey in a litter, and whom the prince had never seen since his marriage, said to Mobarec: “Where are we? Shall we soon be in the dominions of the prince my husband?”

“Madam,” answered Mobarec, “it is time to undeceive you. Prince Zeyn married you only in order to get you from your father. He did not intend to make you Sovereign of Bussorah, but to deliver you to the Sultan of the Genii.”

At these words she began to weep bitterly, which moved the prince and Mobarec. “Take pity on me,” said she. “I am a stranger. You will be accountable to God for your treachery towards me.”

Her tears and complaints were of no effect, for she was presented to the Sultan of the Genii, who having gazed on her with attention, said to Zeyn: “Prince, I am satisfied with your behavior. The maiden you have brought me is beautiful and good, and I am pleased with the restraint you have put on yourself to fulfill your promise to me. Return to your dominions, and when you enter the underground room, where the eight statues are, you shall find the ninth which I promised you. I will make my genii carry it thither.”

Zeyn thanked the King of the Genii, and returned to Cairo with Mobarec, but did not stay long in Egypt, for his impatience to see the ninth statue made him hasten his departure. However, he could not but often think regretfully of the young girl he had married and blame himself for having deceived her. “Alas!” said he to himself, “I have taken her from a tender father to sacrifice her to a genie. Oh, wonderful beauty! You deserve a better fate.”

Sultan Zeyn, disturbed with these thoughts, at length reached Bussorah, where his subjects made extraordinary rejoicings for his return. He went directly to give an account of his journey to his mother, who was in a rapture to hear that he had obtained the ninth statue. “Let us go, my son,” said she, “and see it, for it is certainly in the underground chamber, since the Sultan of the Genii said you should find it there.”

The young sultan and his mother being both impatient to see the wonderful statue, went down into the room of the statues; but how great was their surprise, when, instead of a statue of diamonds, they beheld on the ninth pedestal a most beautiful girl, whom the prince knew to be the same whom he had conducted to the island of the genii! “Prince,” said the young maid, “you are surprised to see me here. You expected to have found something more precious than me, and I question not but that you now repent having taken so much trouble. You expected a better reward.”

“Madam,” answered Zeyn, “Heaven is my witness that I more than once had nearly broken my word with the Sultan of the Genii by keeping you myself. Whatever be the value of a diamond statue, it is worth the satisfaction of having you mine? I love you above all the diamonds and wealth in the world.”

Just as he had done speaking, a clap of thunder was heard, which shook the subterraneous place. Zeyn’s mother was alarmed, but the Sultan of the Genii immediately appearing dispelled her fear. “Madam,” said he to her, “I protect and love your son. I had a mind to try, whether, at his age, he could subdue himself. This is the ninth statue I designed for him. It is more rare and precious than the others. Live happy, Zeyn, with this your wife,” said he, directing his discourse to the young prince, “and if you would have her true and constant to you, love her always and love her only.”

Having spoken these words, the Sultan of the Genii vanished, and Zeyn, enchanted with the young lady, the same day caused her to be proclaimed Queen of Bussorah, over which they reigned in mutual happiness to an advanced age.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

THE DYED JACKAL

Once upon a time a Jackal, who was prowling around the suburbs of a town, fell into an indigo-tank. He found that he was unable to get out of this, and so lay down as though he were dead.

In due time the dyer came to the tank, and finding what he supposed to be a dead Jackal, took him out and threw him into the jungle.

When the dyer was far enough away the Jackal scrambled to his feet, and looking himself over found his color changed to a beautiful blue.

“Now,” he said to himself, “I am certainly much prettier than I was before; why should not this accident prove to be a good thing for me. When the other jackals see my wonderful color, it should be easy for me to persuade them that I should be their king.”

So he got the jackals of the jungle together, and said to them: “Good people, the Goddess of the Wood has anointed me king. Behold the hue of royalty! And after this do no business without my permission.”

The jackals were overcome by the distinguished color, and promised obedience, and so began the reign of the dyed Jackal. But soon he was not content just to rule over his own kind, whom he began to despise, so he declared himself king of the lions and tigers, from among whom he selected his special attendants, keeping his own kindred at a distance, as though he were ashamed of them.

Of course, this made the jackals very indignant, and some of them took counsel together to see what could be done about it.

One of the wise old beasts addressed them, saying: “Leave this impostor to me. The lions and tigers and the rest think he is a king because he is colored blue, but we must show them his true colors. Now, do as I tell you. When night comes, all of you gather around him, and set up a great yell together. He is sure to join in as he used to do, for——

“‘Hard it is to conquer nature: if a dog were made a king,
Mid the coronation trumpets, he would gnaw his sandal-string.’

“And when he yells, the lions and tigers will know him to be a jackal, and fall upon him.”

They did just what the wise old beast had suggested, and the thing befell exactly as he said it would. And so ended the reign of the dyed jackal.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

WHY DOGS WAG THEIR TAILS

A rich man in a certain town once owned a dog and a cat, both of which were very useful to him. The dog had served his master for many years and had become so old that he had lost his teeth and was unable to fight any more, but he was a good guide and companion to the cat, who was strong and cunning.

The master had a daughter who was attending school at a convent some distance from home, and very often he sent the dog and the cat with presents to the girl.

One day he called the faithful animals and bade them carry a magic ring to his daughter.

“You are strong and brave,” he said to the cat. “You may carry the ring, but you must be careful not to drop it.”

And to the dog he said: “You must accompany the cat to guide her and keep her from harm.”

They promised to do their best and started out. All went well until they came to a river. As there was neither bridge nor boat, there was no way to cross but to swim.

“Let me take the magic ring,” said the dog as they were about to plunge into the water.

“Oh, no,” replied the cat, “the master gave it to me to carry.”

“But you cannot swim well,” argued the dog. “I am strong and can take good care of it.”

But the cat refused to give up the ring until finally the dog threatened to kill her, and then she reluctantly gave it to him.

The river was wide and the water so swift that they grew very tired, and just before they reached the opposite bank the dog dropped the ring. They searched carefully, but could not find it anywhere, and after awhile they turned back to tell their master of the sad loss. Just before reaching the house, however, the dog was so overcome with fear that he turned and ran away and never was seen again.

The cat went on alone, and when the master saw her coming he called out to know why she had returned so soon and what had become of her companion. The poor cat was frightened, but as well as she could she explained how the ring had been lost and how the dog had run away.

On hearing her story the master was very angry, and commanded that all his people should search for the dog, and that it should be punished by having its tail cut off.

He also ordered that all dogs in the world should join in the search, and ever since when one dog meets another, he says: “Are you the old dog that lost the magic ring? If so, your tail must be cut off.” Then immediately each shows his teeth and wags his tail to prove that he is not the guilty one.

Since then, too, cats have been afraid of water and will not swim across a river if they can avoid it.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

PRINCE VARNA

There was once a Rajah whose wife died, leaving to her husband a little son, who was a great comfort to his grief-stricken father. In due time the young prince was christened and his godmother was a princess who was known far and wide for her wisdom and kindness, and everyone called her “the good queen.” She named the little prince Varna, and loved him as though he were her own son.

When Varna was three years old the Rajah married a princess of great beauty, but who was hard-hearted and cruel. In the course of time a second prince was born, and the queen was filled with jealous rage at the thought that Varna, and not her own son, was heir to the throne. But she was very careful not to let the Rajah discover her real feelings.

In the mountain there lived an old witch whom the queen knew well, and she sent to her a trusty servant, asking that she find some way of getting rid of her stepson, who stood in the way of her own son. But the witch replied that she could work no harm against the young prince, because he was under the protection of his godmother, whose power was greater than her own.

The “good queen” lived in a country which was far away, but was able to keep herself well-informed of all that went on, and she knew what the wicked queen desired. She sent to the young prince a ring of jade with instructions that he must always wear it, as it would protect him from all harm while in his father’s country. But as a talisman this ring was useless elsewhere. This the wicked queen knew, so she made every effort to entice him away from his father’s dominions.

Her efforts met with no success, but circumstances brought about that which she herself had been unable to. When the young prince was fifteen years old his father’s only sister, who had married the king of a distant country, wrote to her brother begging him to permit his son to pay her a visit, as she greatly desired to see the nephew of whom she had received the most excellent reports.

The Rajah at first refused to allow Varna to leave the country, as he was fearful that harm might come to him, but his sister entreated and his wife insisted, so he finally gave his consent, although reluctantly.

Varna was both good and handsome. When an infant he had been placed in the care of one of the court ladies, who afterward became his governess, and between them existed a great affection, which was shared equally by the lady’s daughter Zaïda. When he became old enough to need the guidance of a tutor and guardian, this lady’s husband took her place, and they both loved him as though he were their own son.

At length the young prince set forth on his journey, accompanied by his tutor and former governess and a numerous retinue. All went well until they left his father’s dominions, when the talisman lost its power to protect him. They were crossing a desert under a burning sun and at length reached an oasis, where the caravan rested. Suddenly Varna sprang from his carriage, and immediately disappeared. As time went on and he did not return, the tutor and his wife were filled with alarm. They sought for him in every possible place, but could not find him.

Sadly they mingled their tears, for they were sure that this was the work of the wicked queen and the witch of the mountain. Suddenly they heard a voice, which came from the branches of a tree beneath which they were sitting. Looking up, they saw a large bird, which said to them: “You seek your prince in vain. Return to your own country and tell the king that many moons shall come and go before his son shall be restored.” There was nothing else to do, so they sorrowfully went home, and when they told their sad news to the king he was so deeply grieved that he was stricken with a severe sickness from which he never recovered.

The wicked queen was now happy; her son was the Rajah, and she wielded all the authority. The power that was hers made her harsher and more cruel than ever, and the people soon began to hate her, especially as they believed that it was she who had caused the disappearance of Prince Varna. Fortunately, her son was loved by his subjects, for he was kind and noble, and only this kept them from rebellion.

One day, about three years after the supposed death of Prince Varna, the young Rajah was out hunting, a sport of which he was very fond. He and his courtiers stopped to rest at a pleasant spot, and refreshments were prepared for them. While at luncheon his attention was attracted to a bird of brilliant red plumage which was perched on the branch of a tree. Taking some crumbs, he threw them beneath the tree, and the bird flew down and ate them.

Cautioning his courtiers to make no noise, he gradually approached the gaily clad bird, which, to his surprise, did not fly away. In the open palm of his hand were more crumbs, and the bird actually hopped towards him and ate these too.

Such confidence and lack of fear quite moved the Rajah, who resolved to take his little feathered friend home with him. He tenderly stroked its pretty feathers, and the bird made no effort to fly away. Soon it nestled on his shoulder and stayed there until the party returned to the palace.

The young ruler became greatly attached to his new pet, and would allow no one but himself to look after it. He even took it with him when he went out walking—the bird on his shoulder.

One day when they were out together the prince passed the house where Varna’s former governess and her daughter lived. Both of them were sitting by an open window, and suddenly the bird flew from its master’s shoulder to the window sill. It looked right into the eyes of both mother and daughter and boldly approached them. This utter absence of fear, and also, perhaps, the bright red plumage, attracted them as it had the Rajah, and they at once fell in love with it.

The Rajah soon missed his pet, and looking about saw the two ladies caressing it. He called and whistled, but the bird paid no attention to him. He then entered the house, intending to take the bird away, but when he reached the room in which they were it flew up to the ceiling where it could not be reached.

After spending some time in vain efforts to capture the bird, the ladies begged the Rajah to leave it with them for a few days, promising to take the greatest care of it. To this he consented, and at once, as though understanding all that was said, the bird flew to Zaïda and nestled on her shoulder.

That night the mother dreamed that she saw the “good queen,” who told her to go to a certain tree in her garden and to lift up a large stone which she would find beneath it. There she would find a small phial which was filled with bright red liquid. This she was to sprinkle over the Rajah’s bird.

This dream made such an impression upon the former governess that in the morning, as soon as she arose, she hastened to the garden. The stone was there beneath the tree, and upon removing this she saw the phial containing the bright red liquid.

Hurrying back to the house she told her daughter about the dream, and showed her the small bottle she had found.

Without a word Zaïda held out her hand, to which the bird at once flew. Her mother removed the cork and sprinkled the contents of the phial over the bright red feathers, and there before them stood the handsome Prince Varna.

Great was the joy of this meeting, and when they were somewhat composed the ladies asked the prince to tell them of his adventures.

He told them that when his carriage had stopped at the oasis some force had compelled him to spring from it, and he found himself transformed at once into a bird. Many times had he tried to reach his own country, but was unable to do so until now. He had suffered greatly, and his only comfort was when the good queen visited him. It was through her that he was at last enabled to meet his brother, and finally be turned again into human form.

It was not long before the Queen learned from the witch of the mountain that Prince Varna had returned, and she immediately sought to destroy him. Hastening to her son she said that some ill-disposed subjects were plotting to dethrone him, and that they had set up an impostor who they declared to be Prince Varna.

The Rajah told her to have no fear, and that he would soon find the conspirators and properly punish them. He made inquiries and found that Prince Varna was at the house of his former governess, so he went there at once, determined to find out the truth for himself.

The two ladies and Prince Varna were in earnest conversation when the Rajah reached their house, and great was his astonishment to find that this was really his long lost brother, whom he immediately recognized.

“Brother,” said he, “I came here thinking to find an impostor, but it makes me happy to see alive you whom we have so long mourned as dead. The throne is yours, and I am your most loyal subject.”

The two brothers embraced one another with great affection, and then hastened to the royal palace, where, in the presence of the entire court, the crown was placed upon Varna’s head by his brother himself. This defeat of the wicked queen’s plans was so great a shock to her that she immediately perished.

The new Rajah and the lovely Zaïda were soon married, and to their great joy the good queen herself attended the wedding. Her most valued gift was the assurance that the witch of the mountain had no more power over him.

Varna insisted that his noble brother share the throne with him, and no ruler was ever more beloved by faithful and loyal subjects than was each of these.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

EMPRESS JANQWI AND THE MAGICIANS

Thousands of years ago, when China was peopled by giants, that country was ruled by a great Empress named Janqwi, who came to the throne when her brother, Emperor Fugi, died. This story tells how the heavens and one of the pillars which upheld the sky were damaged during a rebellion raised by one of her subjects, and how she mended the broken parts.

The man who rebelled was a wicked and fearsome magician named Korkwi, a giant quite terrible to look upon. He was twenty-eight feet tall, whose face and body were entirely covered with coal-black hair, so it can be imagined that he was anything but beautiful.

It had long been his desire to rule the country, so when Fugi died, he thought his opportunity had come. But Janqwi was too clever for him, and she mounted the throne which was rightly hers.

This so enraged Korkwi that he raised a large army and defied the Empress. The next thing he did was to use his wizard’s power, and flood the country, so that thousands of people were drowned. This meant war between the Empress and Korkwi.

Among the warriors of Janqwi were two brilliant young warriors named Haki and Oku, and the first of these she appointed to command that part of the army which would be first to engage the enemy.

This great honor delighted Haki, and he at once made himself ready for battle. He had mounted his favorite charger and had just started for the front when he heard his name called loudly by someone who was galloping behind him. He looked around and saw his friend Oku, who said to him: “Halt, Haki! I intend to lead the first army!”

This enraged Haki, who exclaimed: “You are insolent! The Empress Janqwi has appointed me to lead our warriors into battle; your place is with the reserves.”

To this Oku replied: “It is my right to lead the first army, and yours to follow.”

Then Haki lunged at Oku with his sword, but the latter caused his horse to swerve quickly, and with his lance he wounded Haki’s steed.

Haki at once dismounted and prepared to rush at his comrade when Oku, with lightning rapidity, tore the badge of leadership from Haki’s helmet, and galloped quickly away.

Now the Empress had seen all of this through the palace window, and she could not help admiring the dexterity of the ambitious Oku, so she divided the leadership of the front army between them, making Oku commander of the left wing and Haki of the right. So the two became friends again, and they marched against Korkwi at the head of a hundred thousand soldiers.

They soon reached the place which the rebel had fortified, and Korkwi thought it would be easy, with all the power that he possessed, to frighten them into submission. Seizing an immense iron rod, he mounted a powerful black horse, and with a roar like an angry lion he charged his foes. But he found that Haki and Oku did not fear him.

He was coming toward them at a terrific rate, and the two comrades said to each other: “We will attack him from right and left, and not allow him to escape alive.” But the wizard was a fierce fighter, and his iron rod a fearful weapon. For a long time they fought without either side gaining.

Then Korkwi aimed a blow at Haki’s head, and in order to avoid this Haki turned his horse too quickly, so that the animal’s rear hoof struck against a large stone.

The horse suddenly reared up straight, and threw Haki to the ground, and Korkwi thought he had his enemy at his mercy. Drawing his huge sword, he was about to sever his head from his body when Oku wheeled his horse right in front of him, and at once attacked the magician.

Now the brunt of the fight had fallen to Haki’s lot, so that Oku was fresher than his friend. Korkwi was tired, and did not fancy engaging the young warrior, so he turned and fled.

Haki had been only stunned by the fall, and he soon recovered. He rushed after Korkwi on foot, while Oku pursued on horseback. Korkwi turned, and fitting an arrow to his bow, aimed the shaft at Oku, who, being on horseback, was ahead of his comrade. Just in time Oku swerved, so that the arrow missed him.

When the wizard saw that he had failed to kill either of his pursuers, he saw that he would have to use his magic power in order to save himself, so he stretched forth his wand, and there came a great wave which engulfed Janqwi’s army and the two young generals.

Haki and Oku were struggling in the water, and Korkwi went after them with his iron rod, ready to strike. Suddenly a small island seemed to lift itself out of the water right in front of them, and upon it stood an old man, with snow white hair. He stretched out his hands over the water, which went to the right and to the left, leaving a dry path by means of which the young warriors reached the island.

Seeing that his enemies were now safe, Korkwi turned furiously upon their preserver. He rushed upon the old man, who merely laughed and then turned into a beautiful white bird and flew away.

All thought of further fighting was for the time abandoned. Haki and Oku saw that it was useless for them, being only human, to fight against Korkwi, who possessed supernatural powers, so they returned to the Empress, who decided to call on Shiku, the Fire King, for aid.

Now the Fire King lived at the South Pole, where all was snow and ice, for he burned up everything else around him. He also was a giant, with a face like marble and whose hair and beard were snow white. He was master of all fire, as Korkwi was of water, and his strength was marvelous.

The Empress sent Oku to the South Pole to ask Shiku for help, and this the Fire King at once promised to give. He then told Oku that it was he who had saved the two young generals from drowning, and Oku thanked him for coming to their rescue.

Shiku and Oku returned to the Empress, who made the Fire King Commander-in-Chief of her army. He told her to have no fear, for he would certainly vanquish their enemy.

The new general was aware of the source of the magician’s power, and he instructed all of the soldiers to gather large quantities of a certain plant. This was done, and a great fire was made of all that was collected, and then everyone was ordered to fill a bag full of the ashes.

Shiku, accompanied by Haki and Oku, marched at the head of his army against Korkwi, who, knowing that water would extinguish fire, laughed at him. As the army approached, the magician caused the water to rise, thinking to speedily destroy his foes. But Shiku showed no fear; he ordered every soldier to scatter the ashes they carried, and this mingling with the water, turned into a sort of clay, thus stopping the progress of the water.

When Korkwi saw that Shiku was his superior in wisdom, he became furious with rage, and charged the enemy headlong.

Oku rode to meet him, and soon the two were engaged in deadly combat. For a long time they fought without advantage to either, then Oku began to tire, and his comrade, seeing this, took his place. Being fresh, he began to prove more than a match for Korkwi, who now desired to retire from the fight. So he artfully said:

“It was courageous on your part to risk your life for your friend, and I wish to show how highly I esteem such valor. Far be it from me to slay such a man.”

With this he turned his horse in retreat; but his idea was to take Haki off his guard, and then to turn on him and kill him without mercy.

But Shiku saw what his intention was at once, and called him a cowardly deceiver. Then Korkwi attacked Shiku, who wounded him in the arm.

The magician then tried to escape in earnest, and galloped away at his utmost speed.

It was the custom at that time for opposing armies to watch when a champion from each side should engage in a duel, and so the armies of Shiku and Korkwi had stood awaiting the result. Shiku now ordered his soldiers to charge the enemy, and this they did, defeating them utterly.

Korkwi saw that fate was against him. His magic was useless to him, because Shiku knew more than he did, so, frenzied with pain and disappointment, he dashed his head against the rocks of Mount Kuri, and so perished. With such force did he strike the rocks that he made a great hole in the mountain, in which were embedded some of the pillars which upheld the heavens, and one of these pillars was broken. One corner of the sky thereupon began to drop, and at length it touched the earth.

Then Shiku, taking with him the body of his enemy, returned to the Empress Janqwi, victorious.

But trouble had not ceased for Janqwi. Fire was bursting out from the mountain in which was the broken pillar, and was doing great damage to the country round about. The Empress hastened to the scene of the disaster, and found that considerable damage had been done to both Heaven and earth.

The problem now was how to repair this damage, so she gathered together the wise men of the kingdom to see what could be done.

Under their advice she ordered her subjects to collect all the stones they could find of these five colors—red, blue, yellow, white and black. These she had boiled in a huge cauldron, and the result was a cement which would mend anything.

With Shiku’s magic help she then mounted the clouds, taking the cement with her, and having reached that corner of the sky which was broken, she mended it. She then repaired the broken pillar.

Now all of this was the more difficult to do because ever since the hole was made in the mountain the moon had ceased to shine by night, and the sun by day, so that it was quite dark, and even now it remained so.

She called another meeting of the wise men, and they decided that neither the sun nor the moon could travel because the roads by which they made their daily and nightly journeys had been damaged by the accident to the pillar, and it was now necessary to inform them that repairs had been made, and they could safely venture forth again.

But the sun and moon were millions of miles away, and the problem was how to reach them. Then Shiku had recourse to his magic, and he produced a chariot which could race through the air at unbelievable speed.

Haki and Oku were chosen by the Empress to be her messengers to the sun and moon to tell them that the roads were now perfectly safe.

So these two set out on their journey in the wonderful chariot, and finally they reached both the sun and the moon.

It was just as the wise men had said—neither sun nor moon was aware that the roads damaged by the breaking of the pillar had been repaired, but when they were assured by Haki and Oku that these were now perfectly safe for travel they were satisfied, and so the Lords of Light again took up their daily and nightly duties.

So again all was well in China, and for many years the people lived in peace and prosperity, rejoicing in the fact that the beloved and wise Janqwi was their Empress.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

RAJA RASALU

Once there lived a great Rajah, whose name was Salabhan, and he had a Queen, by name Lona, who, though she wept and prayed at many a shrine, had never a child to gladden her eyes. After a long time, however, a son was promised to her.

Queen Lona returned to the palace, and when the time for the birth of the promised son drew nigh, she inquired of three Jogis who came begging to her gate, what the child’s fate would be, and the youngest of them answered and said: “Oh, Queen! The child will be a boy, and he will live to be a great man. But for twelve years you must not look upon his face, for if either you or his father see it before the twelve years are past, you will surely die! This is what you must do: As soon as the child is born you must send him away to a cellar underneath the ground, and never let him see the light of day for twelve years. After they are over he may come forth, bathe in the river, put on new clothes, and visit you. His name shall be Rajah Rasalu, and he shall be known far and wide.”

So, when a fair young Prince was in due time born, his parents hid him away in an underground palace, with nurses and servants, and everything else a king’s son might desire. And with him they sent a young colt, born the same day, and sword, spear, and shield, against the day when Rajah Rasalu should go forth into the world.

So there the child lived, playing with his colt, and talking to his parrot; but when the twelfth year began the lad’s heart leaped up with desire for change, and he loved to listen to the sounds of life which came to him in his palace-prison from the outside world.

“I must go and see where the voices come from!” he said; and when his nurses told him he must not go for one year more, he only laughed aloud, saying, “Nay! I stay no longer here for any man!”

Then he saddled his Arab horse Bhanur, put on his shining armor; and rode forth into the world; but, mindful of what his nurses had oft told him, when he came to the river, he dismounted, and going into the water, washed himself and his clothes.

Then, clean of raiment, fair of face, and brave of heart, he rode on his way until he reached his father’s city. There he sat down to rest awhile by a well, where the women were drawing water in earthern pitchers. Now, as they passed him, their full pitchers poised upon their heads, the gay young Prince flung stones at the earthern vessels, and broke them all. Then the women, drenched with water, went weeping and wailing to the palace, complaining to the King that a mighty young Prince in shining armor, with a parrot on his wrist and a gallant steed beside him, sat by the well, and broke their pitchers.

Now, as soon as Rajah Salabhan heard this he guessed at once that it was Prince Rasalu come forth before the time, and, mindful of the Jogis’ words that he would die if he looked on his son’s face before twelve years were past, he did not dare to send his guards to seize the offender and bring him to be judged. So he bade the women be comforted, and take pitchers of iron and brass, giving new ones from the treasury to those who did not possess any of their own.

But when Prince Rasalu saw the women returning to the well with pitchers of iron and brass, he laughed to himself, and drew his mighty bow till the sharp-pointed arrows pierced the metal vessels as though they had been clay.

Yet still the King did not send for him, so he mounted his steed and set off in the pride of his youth and strength to the palace. He strode into the audience hall, where his father sat trembling, and saluted him with all reverence; but Rajah Salabhan, in fear of his life, turned his back hastily and said never a word in reply.

Then Prince Rasalu called scornfully to him across the hall:

“I came to greet thee, King, and not to harm thee!
What have I done that thou shouldst turn away?
Scepter and empire have no power to charm me—
I go to seek a worthier prize than they!”

Then he strode away, full of bitterness and anger; but as he passed under the palace windows, he heard his mother weeping, and the sound softened his heart, so that his wrath died down, and a great loneliness fell upon him, because he was spurned by both father and mother. So he cried sorrowfully:

“Oh, heart crown’d with grief, hast thou nought
But tears for thy son?
Art mother of mine? Give one thought
To my life just begun!”

And Queen Lona answered through her tears:

“Yea! Mother am I, though I weep,
So hold this word sure,—
Go, reign king of all men, but keep
Thy heart good and pure!”

So Rajah Rasalu was comforted, and began to make ready for fortune. He took with him his horse Bhanur and his parrot, both of whom had lived with him since he was born.

So they made a goodly company, and Queen Lona, when she saw them going, watched them from her window till she saw nothing but a cloud of dust on the horizon; then she bowed her head on her hands and wept, saying:

“Oh! Son who ne’er gladdened mine eyes,
Let the cloud of thy going arise,
Dim the sunlight and darken the day;
For the mother whose son is away
Is as dust!”

Rasalu had started off to play chaupur[3] with King Sarkap. And as he journeyed there came a fierce storm of thunder and lightning, so that he sought shelter, and found none save an old graveyard, where a headless corpse lay upon the ground. So lonesome was it that even the corpse seemed company, and Rasalu, sitting down beside it, said:

“There is no one here, nor far nor near,
Save this breathless corpse so cold and grim;
Would God he might come to life again,
’Twould be less lonely to talk to him.”

And immediately the headless corpse arose and sat beside Rajah Rasalu. And he, nothing astonished, said to it:

“The storm beats fierce and loud
The clouds rise thick in the West;
What ails thy grave and shroud,
Oh, corpse! That thou canst not rest?”

Then the headless corpse replied:

“On earth I was even as thou,
My turban awry like a king,
My head with the highest, I trow.
Having my fun and my fling,
Fighting my foes like a brave,
Living my life with a swing.
And, now I am dead,
Sins, heavy as lead,
Will give me no rest in my grave!”

[Footnote 3: A game very similar to the modern game of Parchesi.]

So the night passed on, dark and dreary, while Rasalu sat in the graveyard and talked to the headless corpse. Now when morning broke and Rasalu said he must continue his journey, the headless corpse asked him whither he was going, and when he said, “To play chaupur with King Sarkap,” the corpse begged him to give up the idea, saying: “I am King Sarkap’s brother, and I know his ways. Every day before breakfast he cuts off the heads of two or three men just to amuse himself. One day no one else was at hand, so he cut off mine, and he will surely cut off yours on one pretense or another. However, if you are determined to go and play chaupur with him, take some of the bones from this graveyard, and make your dice out of them, and then the enchanted dice with which my brother plays will lose their virtue. Otherwise he will always win.”

So Rasalu took some of the bones lying about, and fashioned them into dice, and these he put into his pocket. Then, bidding adieu to the headless corpse, he went on his way to play chaupur with the king.

Now, as Rajah Rasalu, tender-hearted and strong, journeyed along to play chaupur with the king, he came to a burning forest, and a voice rose from the fire, saying, “Oh, traveler! Save me from the fire!”

Then the Prince turned towards the burning forest, and lo! the voice was the voice of a tiny cricket. Nevertheless, Rasalu, tender-hearted and strong, snatched it from the fire and set it at liberty. Then the little creature, full of gratitude, pulled out one of its feelers, and giving it to its preserver, said, “Keep this, and should you ever be in trouble, put it into the fire, and instantly I will come to your aid.”

The Prince smiled, saying, “What help could _you_ give _me_?” Nevertheless, he kept the hair and went on his way.

Now, when he reached the city of King Sarkap, seventy maidens, daughters of the king, came out to meet him—seventy fair maidens, merry and careless, full of smiles and laughter; but one, the youngest of them all, when she saw the gallant young Prince riding on Bhanur, going gayly to his doom, was filled with pity, and called to him, saying:

“Fair Prince, on the charger so gray,
Turn thee back! Turn thee back!
Or lower thy lance for the fray;
Thy head will be forfeit to-day!
Dost love life? Then, stranger, I pray,
Turn thee back! Turn thee back!”

But he, smiling at the maiden, answered lightly:

“Fair maiden, I come from afar,
Sworn conqueror in love and in war!
King Sarkap my coming will rue,
His head in four pieces I’ll hew;
Then forth as a bridegroom I’ll ride,
With you, little maid, as my bride!”

Now when Rasalu replied so gallantly, the maiden looked in his face, and seeing how fair he was, and how brave and strong, she straightway fell in love with him, and would gladly have followed him through the world.

But the other sixty-nine maidens, being jealous, laughed scornfully at her, saying: “Not so fast, oh gallant warrior! If you would marry our sister you must first do our bidding, for you will be our younger brother.”

“Fair sisters!” quoth Rasalu gayly, “give me my task and I will perform it.”

So the sixty-nine maidens mixed a hundred-weight of millet seed with a hundred-weight of sand, and giving it to Rasalu, bade him separate the seed from the sand.

Then he bethought him of the cricket, and drawing the feeler from his pocket, thrust it into the fire. And immediately there was a whirring noise in the air, and a great flight of crickets alighted beside him, and amongst them the cricket whose life he had saved.

Then Rasalu said, “Separate the millet seed from the sand.”

“Is that all?” quoth the cricket. “Had I known how small a job you wanted me to do, I would not have assembled so many of my brethren.”

With that the flight of crickets set to work, and in one night they separated the seed from the sand.

Now when the sixty-nine fair maidens, daughters of the king, saw that Rasalu had performed his task, they set him another, bidding him swing them all, one by one, in their swings, until they were tired.

Whereupon he laughed, saying, “There are seventy of you, counting my little bride yonder, and I am not going to spend my life swinging girls! Why, by the time I have given each of you a swing, the first will be wanting another! No! If you want a swing, get in, all seventy of you, and then I’ll see what can be done.”

So the seventy maidens climbed into one swing, and Rajah Rasalu, standing in his shining armor, fastened the ropes to his mighty bow, and drew it up to its fullest bent. Then he let go, and like an arrow the swing shot into the air, with its burden of seventy fair maidens, merry and careless, full of smiles and laughter.

But as it swung back again, Rasalu, standing there in his shining armor, drew his sharp sword and severed the ropes. Then the seventy fair maidens fell to the ground headlong; and some were bruised and some were broken, but the only one who escaped unhurt was the maiden who loved Rasalu, for she fell out last, on the top of the others, and so came to no harm.

After this, Rasalu strode on fifteen paces, till he came to the seventy drums, that everyone who came to play chaupur with the king had to beat in turn; and he beat them so loudly that he broke them all. Then he came to the seventy gongs, all in a row, and he hammered them so hard that they cracked to pieces.

Seeing this, the youngest Princess, who was the only one who could run, fled to her father, the king, in a great fright, saying:

“A mighty Prince, Sarkap! making havoc rides along,
He swung us, seventy maidens fair, and threw us out headlong;
He broke the drums you placed there, and the gongs, too, in his pride,
Sure, he will kill thee, father mine, and take me for his bride!”

But King Sarkap replied scornfully:

“Silly maiden, thy words make a lot
Of a very small matter;
For fear of my valor, I wot,
His armor will clatter.
As soon as I’ve eaten my bread
I’ll go forth and cut off his head!”